


Don't Mess with the Lightwood Sisters

by ToTheStarsWriting



Series: fem!Malec [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec in suits, BAMF Alec Lightwood, BAMF Isabelle Lightwood, F/F, Girls Kick Ass, Homophobia, Sexism, and these two will prove it, hints of: - Freeform, slight power kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23329603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToTheStarsWriting/pseuds/ToTheStarsWriting
Summary: There were plenty of rumors about the Lightwood siblings that traveled not just through Idris, but to other Institutes. In a society that prided itself on making strong and compliant warriors, it was expected that all of their people – men and women alike – do their best to hone their skills. To become the best warriors they could be. But to never, ever, step outside the role that they were given.In New York, they’d heard all those whispers, all the rumors, and for the most part they ignored them. When any new Shadowhunters came to the New York Institute, they were told the only rumor that mattered. The only rule one should remember:Don’t mess with the Lightwood sisters.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: fem!Malec [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651147
Comments: 8
Kudos: 143





	Don't Mess with the Lightwood Sisters

There were plenty of rumors about the Lightwood siblings that traveled not just through Idris, but to other Institutes. In a society that prided itself on making strong and _compliant_ warriors, it was expected that all of their people – men and women alike – do their best to hone their skills. To become the best warriors they could be. But to never, ever, step outside the role that they were given.

The Lightwoods were known for having stronger warriors in their family. But those skills were overshadowed by the other rumors. The ones that people whispered behind their hands to one another and tittered about at parties. _How much shame their parents must feel_ , some said, _to have two like that for daughters_?

Isabelle, who dressed like the world was a party, and who flaunted her sexuality in everyone’s faces. _Trollop_ , they whispered. _Whore_ , others said. She had no shame. No discrimination. How on earth was she ever to catch a husband if she was out there willingly spreading her legs for Downworlders and mundanes alike?

Not that a husband seemed to be a care for either Lightwood sibling.

Alexandra. The girl who’d walked away from a wonderful man to kiss a warlock _woman_ at her own wedding. _Whore_ was one of the nicer things said about her. _Traitor_ was another. Though there were some who used words like _confused_. Kissing a woman, a Downworlder woman at that, putting shame on her family name. Then changing her clothes, dressing in _suits_ , cutting off almost all of her hair. Almost as if she were trying to make herself into a man. To imagine someone like _that_ as _parabatai_ to a _Herondale_!

What a shame to have two such daughters. At least, it was said, the Lightwoods still had young Maxwell.

In New York, they’d heard all those whispers, all the rumors, and for the most part they ignored them. When any new Shadowhunters came to the New York Institute, they were told the only rumor that mattered. The only rule one should remember:

 _Don’t mess with the Lightwood sisters_.

* * *

If there was one thing Alec hated about her job as Head of the Institute it would have to be dealing with new recruits. More than the politics, more than the endless meetings, more than any amount of paperwork that ended up on her desk, she absolutely _loathed_ dealing with batches of new recruits. Mostly because the ones that showed up were generally sent over by the Clave to fill in the ranks of those they’d lost here in New York, or the ones that had left, and the ones the Clave chose to send were usually older. Old-fashioned. Sexist. Racist. Just… assholes.

She told Magnus as much as they were sharing lunch in her office.

The little shit that her girlfriend was, she just laughed. Magnus was stretched out on the couch, happily munching on one of the fruit kabobs she’d brought with her. She looked unfairly decadent in such a simple setting. She’d opted for a pair of tight pants, a red shirt that clung in all the right places, showed plenty of cleavage, and hung halfway down her thighs in twin points on either side, with a black and gold corset vest. Over that, she’d had a Victorian styled jacket, which she’d tossed over the back of the couch upon arrival.

It made Alec feel a little frumpy sometimes, just how casually elegant Magnus was.

“I’m sure you’ll manage, darling,” Magnus said, smiling around a quick bite of melon. It was a mystery to Alec how on earth she managed to do that without ever smudging her lipstick even the slightest. The one time Isabelle had convinced Alec to wear some, she’d smeared it off within five minutes.

Alec sighed before taking a drink off her mug. It was warm apple cider, one of her favorite drinks, and she’d thanked Magnus thoroughly for bringing it. “I know I’ll manage. It doesn’t mean I have to like it any time they all spout their crap. It’s the same thing every single time.” A look of disgust twisted her features. “Half of them are usually fine, but the other half are the assholes that’re so sure they don’t have anything to learn from the Lightwood whores.”

“ _I beg your pardon_?”

The sharp, dangerous tone to Magnus’ voice snapped Alec out of her thoughts. Her eyes shot up to find that Magnus had sat up and was glaring. The glamour was gone from her eyes, which in that moment only served to make her look even angrier. Alec had no idea why – until she backtracked over her own words.

It took effort not to let her low groan escape. “Magnus.”

“Do they actually call you that?” Magnus asked, cutting her off. She had her hands clenched on the cushions, and her posture was stiff.

“It’s not a big deal,” Alec tried. She should’ve known it wouldn’t work.

“I beg to differ! It’s a very big deal. Alexandra, you should never have to put up with that kind of talk anywhere, let alone from your subordinates!”

Shrugging, Alec crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide just how much the whole thing bothered her. “We handle it.” They’d been handling it for years and years before this. Even when Alec had been the _good girl_. She still hadn’t been good enough for most of the people around her. Too serious, too tall, not as pretty or feminine as her sister. Alec was too masculine, while Isabelle was too feminine. It made no sense. Alec couldn’t figure out where the middle ground was supposed to be.

She didn’t tell Magnus any of that, though. Nor did Alec tell her any of the other words that were used to describe them.

Still, Magnus rose up from her seat and made her way over to Alec like she couldn’t be apart for this. The two of them fit together so easily. Alec spread her legs just a bit, allowing Magnus right up between them, and she brought her arms up to rest on Magnus’ shoulders while Magnus caught hold of her hip and the small of her back.

“You are amazing and beautiful.” The words were said right up against Alec’s lips. She could feel them, would swear even that she could _taste_ them. Magnus packed them with so much conviction. “You’re amazing, Alexandra Lightwood, and I will tell you that every single day. No one has the right to talk to you like that. Especially not a bunch of stuck up Shadowhunters who are all apparently too blind to recognize your greatness.”

There was warmth; the same warmth Alec got any time Magnus said those kinds of things to her. Alec smiled the way she didn’t smile for anyone else. “They never say it for long. As little as I like dealing with the newbies, there’s a reason Izzy and I usually do it. It’s, ah, quite the spectacle.”

Magnus’ lips slowly curved up. “Oooh, now that sounds promising.”

“Would you…would you like to watch?”

“Watch you in full Head of the Institute mode?” Dramatic as ever, Magnus leaned back just enough to get a hand between them and start fanning herself with it. “I’m already wet just thinking about it. Count me in!”

Embarrassment flooded Alec’s cheeks a bright red. “ _Magnus_!”

* * *

There was a small crowd in the training hall when Alec made her way there, Magnus at her side. There were plenty of Shadowhunters there. They were smart enough to stay on the other side of the pillars, keeping them out of the way, but new recruit assessments always drew a crowd. Alec knew she could stop them coming. She just didn’t bother. It was easier to let it happen like this.

Plus, she’d discovered that it was a good way to let her weed out some of the cockier and more troublesome recruits. The ones who were the biggest assholes. Having a ton of Shadowhunters around watching seemed to spur them on into actions they might have held back on in a private group. It also provided her with witnesses so that no one could claim anything that didn’t actually happen. They couldn’t accuse her of doing something wrong or deny her actions. Not when she had a room full of people to back her up.

For the most part the people in the New York Institute were good people. There were a few bad apples. Ones that Alec kept a close eye on. But most of the worst offenders had already left or been transferred out. The ones that remained were good. Loyal.

There were six new Shadowhunters in this group. They stood in a line in the middle of the room, waiting for her. All males. Judging by the barely hidden sneers when she walked in, all but one didn’t hold very high opinions of her. The one on the far right was the only one to keep in perfect pose, nothing showing through on their face.

Isabelle was there already as well. Unlike Alec, she liked this routine. She liked kicking ass and proving to these people that she was a whole lot tougher than them.

For Alec, it wasn’t an ordeal that she liked to draw out. She and Isabelle had a system for the way that they dealt with this. A routine that they’d practiced often enough to have it down perfectly. Isabelle took care of the initial speech before Alec got in there, welcoming the recruits to the Institute and introducing herself as Weapons Master. That meant that Alec only had to give a short speech.

She walked right up to stand at Isabelle’s side in the middle of the room, right in front of their recruits. With her Head of the Institute face on, nothing showed through as Alec let her eyes run over them all.

Isabelle stood just as tall and proud beside her. She didn’t say anything – no one spoke. The instant Alec had come into the room they’d all gone quiet.

“Welcome to the New York Institute,” Alec said into the quiet room. She didn’t raise her voice – kept it steady and even. This first impression was going to be an important one. It’d set the tone for any future interactions they all had. If she didn’t come across as strong, competent – if she didn’t make them respect her even just a little – they might never do it. “For those of you that somehow don’t already know, I’m Alec Lightwood, Head of this Institute. You’ve been sent here because someone higher up thinks you have what it takes to make it here.” Briefly Alec let her voice harden, and she narrowed her eyes a little as she ran her gaze over the group. “It remains to be seen if they’re going to be right.”

That pricked more than a few egos. Alec could see it on their faces. Sneaking a look over at Isabelle, it was hard not to chuckle when she saw her sister wasn’t even bothering to hide her grin.

Alec forced herself to look away before she broke character. Head up, shoulders back, she once more looked the recruits over. “You’ll quickly find out that I don’t coddle people here. I expect good work out of you, and I’m not afraid to tell you if you screw up. But I won’t ever ask anything more out of you than I, myself, am willing to give.”

There were a few barely repressed smirks at that one.

Isabelle straightened up a little, her own grin never wavering as she called out “I wouldn’t be so quick to smirk if I were you. You’ll learn quick enough no one here puts in more hard work than our Head.”

“I put my all into keeping our city and its inhabitants safe,” Alec said, never missing a beat. “ _All_ its inhabitants. Shadowhunter, mundane, and Downworlder alike. Discrimination will _not_ be tolerated. Anyone who can’t handle that _will_ be dealt with, and I promise you, it won’t be as simple as getting sent back to Idris. When you’re in my Institute, you _will_ respect my authority, and the authority of any Shadowhunter that’s stationed above you. Which, at this point, is pretty much _everyone_.”

Before they could get too upset at that, a few looks of annoyance showing through, Isabelle spoke up and caught their attention. “You get one shot to try and prove yourself better. Do it, and you’ll take the first step up the ladder above the others.”

“We’re going to spar,” Alec said, taking note of how the one on the far left lit up a little at that. He was going to be someone to watch. “Us two against you guys.”

It was no surprise when it was that guy at the far left who spoke up. “And when we win?”

Isabelle snorted, shooting him an almost pitying look. “You’d have to actually win first.”

Leaving Isabelle to explain the rules – seraph blades only, no other weapons, and once you were pinned you were out – Alec made her way toward the side of the room where Magnus was at. As she went she unbuttoned her suit jacket and slid it down off her shoulders. She handed it to Magnus, who took it and folded it over her arm. Then Magnus was blatantly leering at her as Alec unbuttoned the cuffs of her sleeves and rolled them up to her elbows. “Oh, darling, when you promise a show, you truly deliver, don’t you?”

What it was about her suits that got to Magnus was something Alec didn’t understand. Sure, the suit was tailored thanks to Magnus, but it was just pants, a shirt, and a vest. Nothing fancy. Yet Magnus was looking her over in a way that was usually reserved for the bedroom. A flush built in Alec’s cheeks. “Behave,” she scolded her girlfriend.

Magnus scoffed at her. “With you looking like that? Unlikely. However, I supposed I can hold off until you’re done, though I make no promises then.”

Alec tried to wipe away her blush as she walked back over to join the others.

With Alec in her suit and Isabelle in a tight sheath dress in bright blue, with heels that had to be at least seven inches, they cut quite a pair standing side by side. One that it was clear the boys felt ridiculously cocky in beating.

Starting the spar was no real ceremony. Isabelle gestured them forward, and Alec cocked one eyebrow in a ‘are you coming?’ sort of gesture. Then the two slipped down into defensive poses and waited.

It never failed – every time they did this, there was always one fool. One person who thought they knew so much better than these two girls. Or who seemed to think their sheer size alone was going to be enough to win out over the more slender frame of a woman.

Isabelle met the first charge with an easy twist and knee that sent the man flying toward the back of them, and that seemed to work as the sign for the others to charge.

What came next was a simple, easy fight that took less time than Alec’s usual sparring practices with her siblings. These guys were new – good, but new. She saw a lot of potential in them and their skills. One of the men even got in a few hits, and Alec made a point to mentally mark his name and face. She’d have to see about getting him in to practice with Jace for a little while. Their styles were close enough that he’d be a good teacher.

It all came to a stop when the last Shadowhunter hit the ground. Alec was on him in a flash, her knee pressed between his shoulder blades, one hand fisted in his hair and the other pressed against his throat. She held there for one long moment, making sure he knew—if she had a seraph blade, he’d be dead. Then she smoothly let go and rolled her weight back up to her feet once more.

The hand she held out the Shadowhunter’s way was ignored. He shoved up to his feet, clearly embarrassed as he slunk back over to his buddies. Alec shook her head. If his ego couldn’t handle losing a small fight, he wasn’t going to last long. Especially not here.

She turned toward the crowd, ready to tell them to get out of here, the show was over. Only the words seemed to dry up in her throat when she caught sight of her girlfriend.

Magnus was leaning against a post, watching Alec with her cat eyes on clear display. Lust was easy to read on every inch of her. The blown pupils, the way she licked her lips as she looked Alec over, how she shivered a little when Alec took a step toward her.

Raziel bless having Isabelle around. Her sister must’ve realized that Alec wasn’t going to be able to speak up quite yet. So, she stepped up and started calling out to everyone. “All right, guys, show’s over! Get back to work. And you six – go get cleaned up and then report back the small training room in the Ops Center. We’ve got a few more assessments to run.” Then she turned back, bumping Alec with her shoulder to draw her attention. When Alec looked down, Isabelle winked. “Go get your girl,” she murmured.

As Isabelle walked away, taking the new recruits with her, Alec looked back at her girlfriend and smiled.


End file.
